Dragon Age: Z-Day
by Defiant.Anjeru
Summary: The mages and templars were scapegoats for what really happened on that fateful day. Until now. Tired of the lies, Varric Tethras tells the Seeker what really happened in Kirkwall, about the flesh-hungry creatures that spilled forth from the Chantry to tear the city asunder. Rated Mature for the gore and the blood because oh, will the blood flow. Happy Halloween! Dragon Age style!
1. Outbreak

**A/N: **Since our family friend passed away, I've been wrestling with my muse. So I want to apologize to those who are, and have been, following my works in progress. This is not an update, but instead is a little mini series I found shoved into my brain with claws. It's demanding to be written. I hope you all enjoy this stand alone mini series – even with my lack of updates.

Happy Halloween! Hope you enjoy my little tribute. :3

**Disclaimer: **Bioware owns Dragon Age.

* * *

"I want the truth dwarf, not your bullshit, about what really happened at the Chantry. What really tore Kirkwall apart? It wasn't the mages and the templars like we'd like to believe, was it?" The Seeker folded her arms across her armored chest, her tone demanding she not be dismissed.

The Seeker was not so easily fooled; she was quite perceptive, Varric had to admit.

For once, Varric faltered. He wasn't sure if he could continue on with the lie he normally spread, afraid she would see right through his falsities. Not a soul had, thus far, but all it took was once. Although, Varric told his lies for a reason; even _he_ had a hard time believing what occurred that day and he'd _been there. _The screams of pain, the blood, the chaos; in the end, covering up the incident had proven to be the only course of action left to them, lest bedlam spread throughout all of Thedas.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," he pointed his finger sternly, "and _this_, is me warning you."

Cassandra scoffed. "I doubt what you have to share is anything I have not encountered myself."

"I wouldn't be so sure, Seeker. I really wouldn't." Varric shook his head, a bitter smirk on his lips. He leaned back in the chair and steeped his fingers in front of his mouth. "It started out as it always did; Meredith and Orsino bickering like spoiled, whiny little brats and wanting to involve Grand Cleric Elthina. Hawke got wind of their argument and, after gathering together our band of merry misfits, raced toward Hightown. She knew, we all knew, something big was going to go down...little did we know how big it really was. No shit, we had _no _idea. _None. What. So. Ever._"

* * *

"Anders! What have you done?" Hawke took a step toward her ex-lover, her heart thundering in her ears. There was a gleam in the mage's eye that made her weary and she had no doubt that Justice was behind it; just as he'd been behind their rather ugly parting of ways. Hawke had found out the hard way just how unstable he really was.

"I've done what needed to be done!" His lips twisted wryly. "I'm taking away the compromise because there can be no compromise!"

"Anders!"

"What have you done mage?" Knight-Commander Meredith sneered as she took a menacing step toward him, her hand on the hilt of her sheathed sword. Ready to take his head at a moments notice.

"What needed to be done," he repeated solemnly.

Hawke's eyes widened as the ground beneath their feet began to tremble. She had to shield her eyes from the sudden burst of light streaming out of every pore in the Chantry. Heat erupted and she cried out, thinking for a brief moment that she'd been caught in an explosion, but after a moment it all faded. She expected chaos, fires, death; but there was nothing. It was the same as it'd been moments before. Anders' brows furrowed in confusion and he swung around to stare at the Chantry; why he looked so taken aback, Hawke didn't know.

"Anders...?" She took a step toward him only to be hit with the truth. All the pieces fell into place; the changes in him, the quest, the chantry diversion, his confusion – he'd been planning the destruction of the Chantry! And she'd helped him!

Fenris stepped up beside Hawke, his intense moss gaze meeting her golden one, a lock of white falling across his brow. "He meant to do something unforgivable."

"I know," she whispered, overwhelmed; how could Anders have done this to her?

"It seems to have failed," he muttered. His words spoke the truth but the tension around them continued to escalate. Anders was frustrated that his plan had failed and continued to argue with both the Knight-Commander and First Enchanter.

Hawke was the first, and only one, to notice the Grand Cleric's presence at the top of the Chantry steps.

"Grand Cleric!" Her cry caught the attention of all those assembled. All eyes swung to where the Grand Cleric stood, Hawke taking the steps two at a time to reach her. She stopped as she came face to face with the older woman, taking note of how..._wrong _Elthina appeared.

The Grand Cleric stared at her with eyes of creamy white. Her skin was blotchy, giving her the appearance of someone who'd taken gravely ill. Was she even breathing? The older woman sniffed at the air, then suddenly turned her vacant gaze upon Hawke. Her lips pulled back in vicious sneer, teeth coated in blood and what appeared to be flesh – of some sort. Hawke stumbled back as Elthina rushed her, teeth snapping much like a hungry wolf. Snap, snap, snap – then a horrendous scream. A young templar rushed forth, intending to help or calm Elthina, but as soon as he was in reach, the deranged woman took hold of the young man and tore off his helmet. She howled and lowered her face to his neck, Hawke watching, horrified, as her teeth took hold of his flesh and _tore _it free. Her nails tore at his face. Blood gushed as his gurgled scream echoed off the walls in the courtyard. She dug her teeth into him again and again, tearing, rending, _eating _him, until he fell to the ground, still as stone.

"Grand Cleric!" Hawke stood frozen as Sebastian rushed toward the Grand Cleric, distraught; this was his friend, his confidante, and Maker damn him if he didn't try to help her. Yet as he drew close, more sisters and brothers spilled out of the Chantry, eyes milk white and skin blotchy, some sporting assorted wounds that turned her stomach. Sebastian's cerulean gaze widened as they spilled forth like a plague, washing over the templars and mages scrambling about. Hawke and the others could only watch in horror as the scene unfolded; never could Hawke have envisioned anything so gruesome.

Movement caught her eye. The templar that Elthina had attacked moved. His body gave a violent spasm, then another, before a horrendous howl of pain ripped free from his mangled throat. He flipped over, quickly, eyes opening, as white as all the others, skin blotchy, teeth snapping as he grabbed a young mage's ankle. The young girl screamed as he yanked her down, sinking his teeth into the flesh of her shin. Hawke stared, wide eyed, as he tore a chunk of the muscle free before diving back in for more.

"What's happening?" Merrill screeched in fear.

"Blood magic," Fenris hissed, brandishing his sword as one of the creatures stormed their little group. He cleaved the man in twain, blood splattering to further coat the tainted courtyard. They'd slain a number of crazed men and women, but never had Hawke felt so affected. She didn't know what to feel, how to feel; everything was out of control. Fear pumped adrenaline through her body.

"I would never use blood magic!" Anders snapped defensively.

"Whatever you did, abomination, has caused this!" Fenris accused.

"Then it was a mistake! I have no idea what's been done!"

"Fenris is right," Merrill began in a shaky whisper, "this is blood magic."

"You know this for certain?" Hawke turned toward the young elf, brows drawn tight over her eyes.

Merrill nodded once, a sharp jerk of her head downward, eyes on the ground. "I've seen it once before."

"This is not the time to discuss this!" Fenris howled, warding off two more teeth-snapping attackers. They took every chance they could to try and get the elf with their chomping mouths, their flesh and blood tainted nails.

"You got a plan?" Varric shouted as he let loose a bolt; the arrow flew with unparallelled precision, finding its home right between the eyes of the closest attacker. "I'd sure as hell like to hear it!"

"There's no plan for this," Isabela muttered. "How do you plan for _this? They're eating each other!_"

"We need to get out of here!" Hawke swung her staff around to shoot forth a lightning bolt. The smell of burnt and dead flesh nearly made her gag. The air was rife with the scent of blood, the sound of screams; the longer they remained, the worst the situation became. The creatures were multiplying. Each victim who fell to one, became one. She wanted to stay and fight but it was unwise to do so when they knew as little as they did; they needed to retreat, regroup. _She _needed more information. "Back to the Hanged Man! Now!"

* * *

It was easier said than done.

Getting back to the Hanged Man was a nightmare. A real life nightmare, far worse than anything Hawke could have imagined. The qunari invasion paled in comparison. She'd lived with these people, talked to some of them, even helped them with errands and the like back in the day when she'd needed gold for the deep roads expedition. Now those people were gone. In their place were vicious creatures out for blood; each one Hawke passed was worst than the last. One would be missing an eye, bitten from its face – another would have broken limbs, exposed entrails, and chunks bitten clean out of its body. She didn't want to hurt these people, as horrendous as they seemed, but as they raced through the city, she had little choice. These people she used to know wanted to hurt her – _eat _her – and she wasn't about to let that happen, to her or any of her friends.

The path to their little space of safety was an unsafe one. Many times they were forced into confrontation with these people – these creatures – to keep from being bitten themselves. Each strike seemed so surreal, as if they'd stepped into a nightmare or a horror themed play. They raced through streets running with rivers of blood; streets littered with struggling bodies, splattered remains. When they finally did reach the Hanged Man, they slammed their way inside and, as the others barricaded the doors, Hawke scrambled her way behind the bar where she promptly lost her breakfast. Her body heaved again and again, until there was nothing left but the remembered sights and smells of the gory chaos outside in the streets.

"Hawke." Fenris met her when she returned, concern etched in the lines of his brow. His bare hand found the nape of her neck, his thumb tracing her skin soothingly – at some point he must have discarded his gauntlets, she realized. His touch had the desired effect. She felt herself relaxing, the nausea beginning to ebb. "Are you alright?"

"That's kind of a loaded question, Fenris." Her lips twisted into a frown. "I have no idea what's going on but everything...what we saw...I can't get it out my head."

He glanced away uneasily. Although he didn't withdraw his hand, his touch was suddenly tense. She laid her hand over his. After a long moment, he returned his gaze to her. His voice somber, he told her, "It isn't something you'll be able to forget easily, Hawke. Merrill is not the only one who's seen this before." He rarely spoke of his time as a slave to Danarius but Hawke knew not a moment of that time was pleasant; if he hadn't already killed the Tevinter magister, Hawke would. Again and again.

"You've seen this before? Do you know what is happening, Fenris?"

"I do. Come," he took her hand and led her back to where their group sat around one of the tables. Anders openly glared at their joined hands but Hawke didn't pull away. She couldn't handle his fluctuating emotions at the moment, not when he was responsible for all of this. Ignoring his glare, she didn't let go of her elf's hand as they sat with their anxious friends.

"What in the _hell _is happening out there?" Isabela shouted. She was the only one agitated, pacing the room, finding whatever alcohol she could get her hands on. "There isn't enough booze in all of Thedas for this," she muttered.

"It's blood magic," Merrill insisted again.

"She is not the only one who's seen this happen. I have as well." All eyes swung toward Fenris at his quiet admission. Hawke squeezed his hand under the table. "Blood magic is everywhere in Tevinter. They may not broadcast it out in broad daylight but every magister knows the power blood magic gives them over all others. An army of undead...a magister would be nigh unstoppable, wouldn't they?"

Anders scowled. "So this army of undead...where is it?"

Fenris leveled his gaze on the mage, his fingers suddenly very tight around Hawke's. "The magisters tried it in an enclosed environment. As vicious and efficient as these abominations are, they do not follow orders. The magisters could not control them – what the magisters cannot control, they destroy."

"Merrill," Hawke turned her gaze to her shaken friend, "you said you've seen this before; what happened?"

"I may have exaggerated a bit. I did not see it myself but I heard stories of the incident, oh! Oh so many cautionary tales. It was said the undead were summoned and it spread throughout the clan like a plague. It is why the clan has dwindled so. The Keeper tells us so, often."

They all began to talk around her. Hawke let them as she turned her thoughts inward; neither Fenris nor Merrill had mentioned the bites, but she had seen it happen. She had not been able to look away. Through all of the chaos around her, Hawke had been frozen. The deranged Elthina had bitten the templar and, within minutes, the templar had risen again – whatever affliction the Grand Cleric had, she'd spread it through that bite. Hawke was sure of it.

"It's the bite," Hawke said, interrupting the commotion.

"What is?" Aveline's eyes were now intently on Hawke. Soon their illustrious leader could feel all of them staring.

"The way it spreads – it's the bites. I watched Elthina bite that templar – "

"That was not Elthina!" Sebastian snapped from where he stood, leaning against the wall. No one seemed more disturbed by all this than he. Only he had been so close with Elthina and she'd been the first of the undead, the first they'd seen take out the flesh of another; she was to be the image forever burned into Hawke's memory.

"I watched that _creature _bite that templar," Hawke said, trying to be considerate. "That's when the rest of them came pouring out of the Chantry. But I couldn't take my eyes off that templar. Within minutes, he became just like Elth -," she stopped, catching herself before continuing, "...that creature. I saw it all the way here. I was watching for it."

Somber silence settled over the table. No one could bring themselves to deny or stand against her words. When it came to this, they were all clueless – even Anders, who had caused it. Finally, Anders pushed himself up from the table, eyes flaring ever so briefly. "We have to stop it. If a bite is all it takes, it's going to spread fast. If even one gets out of the city, Thedas is doomed."

"Then why are we sitting here wasting time?" Sebastian shoved himself up from the wall. "How long could it take for them to wipe out the city before moving on?"

"Not long," Hawke whispered with a shudder. Fenris squeezed her hand with a nod. "We need to get out there and stop it, before it's too late." She only hoped they weren't _already _too late.


	2. Left Behind

**A/N: **I am very sorry about the long pause in updates. November marks Nation Novel Writing Month and I, two years in a row now, have participated in, and have won, the event. I find it a very rewarding writing exercise, being able to say I've now written two books!

That being said, again I am **_very_** sorry that this Halloween special isn't, and hasn't been, finished until December.

That aside, thank you so much for your reviews, alerts, and favorites! :)

**Disclaimer: **Bioware owns Dragon Age, I'm just having fun.

* * *

"First thing that needs to be done is for that...that...abomination to be put to death!"

Hawke wasn't surprised by Sebastian's outburst. In fact, she'd seen it coming since the moment Anders' spell had gone horribly wrong – or maybe just as planned; after all, all those in the Chantry had died, anyway. But she couldn't have this issue dividing her companions, not now when they were faced with something that could very well lead to world-wide problems. Sebastian didn't appear to be in the mood to compromise however, given his tense stance and the scowl marring his handsome features. The man was giving off waves of anger that demanded revenge for what had happened to Elthina and the Chantry.

Anders seemed resigned. Sitting off in the corner of the room, he remained silent to await his sentence. Hawke frowned; she'd loved him once. Her heart broke even now to imagine him dead. She'd already lost so many. Even if she hated what he'd done, she didn't think she could bring herself to kill him or stand by and watch as he was killed.

She opted to try and talk Sebastian down, despite how little faith she had in success.

"Sebastian, my friend." She approached him like she would a wounded animal, her hands up to show she meant no harm. He did his best to remain stern, his back ramrod stiff and arms folded across his mighty breastplate. "Killing Anders isn't going to help anyone. His gifts are needed for what we're about to face."

"His _gifts_?" Sebastian sneered the word, taking an aggressive step toward her. Fenris growled, moving to stand in front of Hawke, his sword drawn. "I won't hurt her."

"I will stay right here," the elf warned.

"She needs to understand! His _gifts _have caused this!"

"I have magic too, Sebastian," Hawke snapped defensively.

"You would never use it for evil!" He shouted, his words making her flinch.

"We can't just kill him."

"I'll defend you to my death, Hawke, but Sebastian has a point. The abomination should not just walk away unpunished," intoned Fenris.

"He has a name!" Hawke yelled. Her magic flared, sending the chairs flying. "Yes, he made a bad decision. Yes, he made a mistake. But he can redeem himself! He can _help _us stop what he started and save those who aren't yet lost!"

Silence settled over the room. She could see that some of them wanted to argue further, but dared not to. Isabela continued to drown her horror with booze; Merrill sat close by her pirate, clutching tightly to the hand not locked onto liquor; Varric polished Bianca in a disturbed silence; and throughout, Aveline and Donnic stood vigilant by the barricaded door. It was Anders who broke the tense silence, approaching Hawke to set his hand on her shoulder in comforting touch meant to soothe her. "It's alright, Hawke."

Hawke turned her murderous glare on him, scowling. "It is _not _alright."

"It is." He doesn't bother shrinking beneath her glare. He's stood up to her far too many times already to back down now, when it counts. Hawke can't help but notice how Justice makes no appearance, not since his host had unleashed whatever spell that was terrorizing the town. "What I've done, it deserves nothing short of death. If Sebastian demands my death, then so be it. He will be of far better use now than I."

Hawke seethes in the silence as all eyes move to her. They're waiting for her to make the decision, to have the final word, as they always do and always have done. Already, Hawke has seen too much death in her life and, even more, on this day. She grits her teeth because she cannot bare to watch another. To have a hand in ending the life of someone she would moved the moon and stars for once. Even if he had shunned her, pushed her away, he was – in his way – still a part of her family. He'd stood by her all the times she'd been dealt loss – her brother, her mother, and even when Fenris had abandoned her(he'd come back, but that didn't mean his initial betrayal hadn't hurt her). How could she bring herself to turn her back on him now, possibly when he needed her the most? By rights, he'd earned her loyalty – even when he'd begun to lose himself to Justice and done the unthinkable. She didn't have to like it, but she could help him. He _could _help them set things rights.

"We're not going to kill him."

"But Hawke – "

"Shut up Sebastian!" She snapped. "If you don't like it, you're more than welcome to march out the front doors and face those creatures all by yourself!"

Sebastian sighs, his features drawn. He rubs his forehead, his shoulders slumping in resignation. Hawke had no doubt he could take her on if he went home to Starkhaven, could bring an army down on Anders – but getting to Starkhaven alive would be the trick. He knew, as they all did, going out there alone might as well be resigning yourself to death. "Very well."

"Hawke," Anders sighs her name with a shake of his head, "you don't have to do this."

"You." Hawke turns her attention toward the mage, her friend, and points at him sternly. "You're going to use every last of everything you have to help up make this right. Do you understand me?" He swallows and nods. "Good. Now – there is a city falling to pieces out there. Let's get our asses moving."

As much as she dreads returning to the sights outside the Hanged Man, Hawke straightens and moves toward the barricaded door.

* * *

The screaming hasn't stopped. That's the first thing Hawk notices. Every part of the city is screaming; she can hear a man screaming an alley over and even a woman howling in pain, probably as far away as the docks. Her whole body shudders. Not just from the sound. The sights fare no better. The ground is splattered with blood and entrails, making her want to heave all over again. The stench of death is all around. Her limbs tremble as they begin to tiptoe their way around fallen and dismembered corpses. Discipline was key; she'd fought undead, she'd fought abominations, and she'd seen people die. This was no different – okay, it _was _different. It was her mother's death times a hundred.

"By the dread wolf..." Merrill's voice trembled and Hawke turned to see that the small elf was crying. She looked so pale, Hawke feared she may faint. But Isabela kept on her, soothing Merrill by petting her hair and whispering sweet nothings.

"I know it's bad, Merrill...but I fear it's only going to get worse. Let's move." Hawke waved them forward and they continued through lowtown toward the docks. Despite all the bodies, she saw none of the creatures that had spilled forth from the Chantry; had they already escaped the city? Were they too late? The walk toward to the docks made her fear the worst that they were, in fact, too late. All around were the fallen and she had to avoid looking, as well as stepping. She lost what little she had in her stomach, several times. By the time they reached the steps leading down to the docks, she heaved nothing and yet, still she heaved. Fenris stood by her, steadfast, rubbing her back each time until she could smother the urge to vomit.

"By Andraste's grace..."

Sebastian's voice brought her from her perch where she'd been leaning against the wall leading down the stairs. She swung her head around to follow his line of sight and felt her stomach drop completely. The creatures from the initial wave were all there, on the docks. They stared out across the water, toward the Gallows, and Hawke realized that those who hadn't perished must have used the water to flee to safety. They snapped and snarled, howled into the air loudly. Ah, Maker; there had to be at least fifty of them assembled on the planks. An explosion caused her to turn her eyes toward a boat that was now sinking into the depths of the cold water; creatures and humans alike thrashed until it sunk completely. Another explosion from the Gallows alerted her to the war continuing ahead; some of the creatures must have made it across on the boats with the survivors.

Fenris yanked her back before she could assess further. The others quickly followed until they were assembled around the corner. "There are too many," he whispered with a scowl.

"We can't just sit here," Hawke whispered back.

"What do you suppose we do?" Sebastian shuddered. "We're outnumbered, Hawke."

"We have to do something." A scream rent through the air, coming from the Gallows, and it sent the assemble creatures into a frenzy. She could hear them thrashing about; some even fell into the water and – presumably – drowned. "They're killing them!"

"So we need to get to the Gallows. How do we get through _them_ first?" Varric thrust his crossbow toward the maddened monsters. "I doubt they're just going to let us waltz right on through without a nibble."

Hawke would have answered him if a screech didn't cut her off. Snapping around, she saw one of the creatures from the docks standing at the top of the step. Its screech alerted the others. Soon, the assembled mass of creatures began to climb each other in their haste to reach potential food. Merrill screamed in fear as Hawke twirled her staff free from her back and, summoning as much magic as she could in one shot, slammed it onto the ground. Electricity exploded from the ground and shot forth to tear the very ground from beneath the encroaching creatures' feet. Using the valuable seconds of chaos, Hawke turned toward her friends and screamed - "Run!"

They didn't hesitate. Stumbling over their own feet in their haste, they all turned and began to sprint for all they worth toward the hidden sewer passage – it was the closest hiding spot Hawke could think of, that they all could think of. The creatures not downed by her attack were hot on their heels. Hawke sent them all ahead, Aveline and herself bringing up the rear. Just when they reached the grate, Merrill fell. Hawke watched it happen in slow motion; the small elf fell and as they brought themselves to a stop, the monsters descended. Hawke reached for her friend just as one of the snarling creatures – this one had no eyes much to her horror – latched onto the small woman's leg. Teeth were buried in her flesh just as Hawke swung her staff into the monsters face; she felt the nose give way as the creature fell away, taking part of Merrill's leg with it.

Anders took up the front as they rest of them carried Merrill into the passage. He managed to stop them with a powerful paralyze glyph, long enough to for the rest of them to make inside. Hawke, the last to go in, turned and reached for Anders just as the glyphs died out.

"Come on!"

"Go!" Anders waved her away as the creatures surrounded him. He knew there was no way he would make it, but Hawke screamed and tried to make her way to him regardless. Arms wrapped around her waist and dragged her backward into the passage, the grate slamming shut over her head. Her last sight before the tortured darkness beneath was the peaceful and resigned look in Anders' eyes as the creatures descended to pick him to pieces.

Literally.

"_Anders!_"


End file.
